


dropped from the moonbeam

by leighbot



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-24 19:43:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3782050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighbot/pseuds/leighbot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Harry’s laughter sounds like it’s underwater, their reception so shit. Still, it’s only the second time Louis’ properly heard from Harry since his emergency flight to Los Angeles the Sunday before. He’ll take the sound of his voice any way he can get it at this point.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Come home, Louis,” Harry says, voice softly demanding. “Come home, you need to meet him. You and Asher are the most important people in my life now. I need you here.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Or, the one where they come back together again after Harry finds out he has a two-year old and Louis handles it poorly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dropped from the moonbeam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlepinkbow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlepinkbow/gifts).



> This was written in about four days and my betas- while super and amazing- were tasked with the monumental responsibility of having this done timely. As always, thanks is owed to [Zoe](http://millionairelouis.tumblr.com/) and [Sam](http://asteriaseren2010.tumblr.com/), who are wonderfully adept at pointing out my errors. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Title taken from Radiohead's 'Sail to the Moon'. The song/title is also referenced in the text. Because I am terribly unoriginal.

The noise of the crowd at Keepmoat is still ringing in his ears and Louis barely hears his phone inside his locker. He rushes to it as quickly as he can, side-stepping Morley and Brown in his haste. He digs through his bag quickly and swipes to answer on what must be the last ring.

“Babe!” he crows, adrenaline rushing through his veins.

Harry’s laugh down the line is intoxicating, slow and sweet like syrup. “I saw your goal, Lou. Great job.”

Most of Louis’ teammates are shuffling past him, clapping him on the back so hard he’s jolted with it. He can’t stop smiling though, the high from the game and from hearing Harry’s voice for the first time in a week too much for him to handle.

“It’s so loud in here, love. Can I call you back?” he asks, hoping Harry understands how happy he is to hear from him.

Thankfully, Harry’s on the same wave length as him.

“‘Course you can. I’ll be around, just call when you can. Love you, great job again.”

“Love _you_ ,” Louis says before a chorus of “love you” starts behind him, his teammates taking every chance they can today to tease him.

Harry laughs when he hears before ringing off.

Louis turns back to them. “Oi, is that anyway to treat the lad that won this game for you, ya sorry lot?”

There’s a pause before Marples and Morley lunge for him, chasing him around the benches while the team laughs. Louis skids to a stop when Coppinger enters the locker room, a look of pride on his face.

“You’re not a half-bad footie player, Tommo,” he says with a grin, holding his hand out.

Rushing forward to take the offered hand, Louis doesn’t even care how over-eager he looks. He’s watched Coppinger play for ten years now, seen him at his highs and his lows with the club and he’s still a bit starstruck. Louis’ whole day has been him battling between being professional and being awed by his teammates- bloody _Warrington_ , for fuck’s sakes, Louis’ been obsessed with him ever since he saw him literally grit his teeth through a broken jaw at Southport.

He declines drinks with the others, shouldering his bag and deciding to shower at home. He shoves his boots into his bag and slips his socked feet into a pair of athletic sandals. He had been meant to meet and greet with fans after the game as well as before, but his management team cancelled both due to the recent headlines.

Walking from the locker room and nodding tersely at Alberto, suddenly feeling somber when he remembers the outside world and his current headline status as the “woman scorned” role, Louis lets himself be handled out of the stadium and into a waiting car. Alberto gets into the passenger seat before they take off, Louis holding his hand in front of his face so the photogs outside waiting for him don’t get a useful shot.

The last thing he’s interested in right now is supporting a pap’s salary.

The weight of his mobile is heavy in his hands and Louis bites his bottom lip, trying to decide if he should call Harry back now or wait till he’s home. He’s under no illusion that Alberto’s stoic gaze forward is equivalent to his ears being closed, and Louis owes Harry an honest, open conversation in private.

The buzz from the game is still vibrating through him, though, and he just wants to talk to his person again as if the last week hadn’t ever happened.

He thumbs to his recent calls, selecting Harry’s picture- a private shot Louis took of him at the beach the day before they came out in a joint statement a year before. It’s been his favourite picture of Harry every day since, the sun a brilliant warm orange light across the bridge of his nose, eyes squinted, tongue caught between his teeth as he’d smiled wide. Louis brings the phone to his ear as it rings, settling more comfortably in his seat.

“Hiya, love,” Harry picks up, a smile still clear in his voice. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon, thought you might have gone out for drinks with the team or summat.”

Fiddling with the edge of his shorts, Louis shakes his head. “No, just wanted to talk to you. It’s been awhile.”

“I know,” Harry says, voice suddenly somber. “Lou, I’m so sorry you’re going through this-”

“ _Me_?” Louis interrupts, shocked. “Harry, you’ve just found out you’ve got a _kid_ and _you’re_ apologising to _me_?”

“I didn’t mean for you to get dragged into any of this.”

“Babe,” Louis laughs, a quick, breathy sound. “Babe, _I_ am the one who needs to apologise. I let my jealousy cloud my judgement and I acting irrationally. I love you, so much, and I’m so sorry I behaved like a complete tit.”

Harry’s laughter sounds like it’s underwater, their reception so shit. Still, it’s only the second time Louis’ properly heard from Harry since his emergency flight to Los Angeles the Sunday before. He’ll take the sound of his voice any way he can get it at this point.

“Come home, Louis,” Harry says, voice softly demanding. “Come home, you need to meet him. You and Asher are the most important people in my life now. I need you here.”

“Yeah,” Louis breathes out. “Yeah, I’m- I’ll come home. Tomorrow, I’ll get the first flight out that I can.”

Harry’s tone gets excited again, the way it had when he’d first called. “I’m so thrilled about your game, though. I can’t stop watching these fan videos.”

“Proper impressive, I am,” Louis jokes, puffing out his chest. He flips Alberto off when he turns in his seat to look back at him, a condescending smile on his face.

There’s a quiet commotion on Harry’s end before he speaks again. “I’ve got to go, Lou. Asher’s up from his nap. Love you, see you so soon.”

“Love you,” Louis repeats. “I’ll call you a bit later.”

“Bye bye,” Harry says with a sound that might be him blowing a kiss, before the line goes dead.

The phone’s quiet in his hands after that, all of his notifications popping up silently. He giggles to himself as he surfs through them almost mindlessly, giddy with the anticipation of seeing Harry again.

He kicks the floor of the car briefly, slipping off his sandals and running his socked foot along the interior carpeting. He wishes he could go back to the week before and change his reaction when Harry told him the news- that an ex of his had passed, leaving behind a little boy that might be his.

Shocked by the news and over-reacting to his own self-doubts, Louis didn’t have an appropriate response. He hadn’t believed Harry when he’d said he hadn’t known and, worse, had outright refused to fly to LA with Harry to sort everything out together, as a unit.

Instead, he’d blamed his decision to stay behind on his upcoming game with Donny and Harry had left, catching the first flight to California. The ex’s mother had sold her daughter’s and grandson’s story to the tabloids, calling Harry a deadbeat and a womaniser in stride. Louis hadn’t stood by him, had let him get off his flight in LA and face a wall of paps trying to get a comment from him.

Worse still, he hadn’t said anything at all in Harry’s defense. They had been immediately commanded to refrain from social media while this matter was sorted, and Louis had listened. He’d seen the vague tweet Harry had sent out on Tuesday, the lyric “dropped from the moonbeam” that Louis instantly had recognised as the one Thom Yorke had written when his son was born, but Louis hadn’t been brave enough to do anything himself.

He’d wanted to at least call Harry when the notification came up, suddenly desperate to hear his voice, but an ugly little thought in his head had told him he wouldn’t fit into Harry’s life now, that Harry wouldn’t want to deal with Louis’ immature personality when he had an actual child to look after.

Louis knows how ridiculous that thought is, knows that Harry had _wanted_ Louis to come with him to meet Asher, to bring Asher into _their_ lives, together. But little voices can be convincing, and he’d spent the last week simultaneously desperate for the phone to ring and afraid of what would happen when it did.

It had worked out for him today, he supposes now; his week’s worth of anger, frustration and uncertainty translating smoothly into a quick foot and sharp mind combination on the pitch. He’d flubbed his spot kick when given the chance but he’d assisted for a goal and got one of his own.

Possibly, he had played at his best today, ever, and he’ll have to bring it up to Harry one day when they’ve fallen back into their rhythm. He’ll find it funny once they’re past this bump.

He’s exhausted in the back of the car now, the adrenaline from the match pouring out of him now that he’s no longer up and moving. He rests his head on the back of the seat, the rhythmic sound of the engine giving him something to focus on as they made their way to his house.

Just a couple more sleeps till he’d see Harry, then. Louis had wasted enough time already.

~*~

Heathrow airport is congested at the best of times and a madhouse at the worst.

It had taken the better part of the past twenty-four hours to convince their management team to “allow” Louis to travel to be with Harry. Louis knows they’re not actually able to stop him from going, but it’s hard to shake the illusion of their control over his life.

He pulls a beanie over his hair before they get out of the car near the “celebrity entrance” he rarely uses, not wanting to give the paparazzi in Los Angeles any advance notice of his arrival. His fringe is getting unreasonably long, but Louis likes the way Harry’s eyes go soft when he pushes his hair from his face, so he’s left it alone for now.

Waiting in the private lounge for their flight is torturous. All around them are tables with complimentary tabloids and newspapers, the ever-present _‘Harry Styles Abandoned His Love Child- Grandmother Speaks Out_ ’ headline everywhere Louis looks. He tosses them out before anyone else can come into the lounge and read one. He’s half a mind to complain and act proper popstar about it but he needs to draw as little attention to himself during this trip as possible.

Alberto is good enough company once he settles into a chair, wry and genuine all at once. They spend the better part of their wait time having whispered conversations plotting out their companion’s made-up backstories. Alberto’s great at people watching- in the business of it, Louis supposes- and by the time they’re ready to board the plane they’ve completely decided that the woman across from them- in heavy furs and dark sunglasses even though it’s April and London is in the middle of a heatwave- is probably on the run from her Russian vodka tycoon husband who’s just caught wind of her taking sanctuary in the UK and she needs to move on to her next destination.

It’s rather amusing for them, then, when they board the plane and the man who might be her husband appears, a shock of red hair and a thick Texas accent as he loudly tells anyone who’ll listen about taking his “bride of fifteen years” on a world trip.

They quickly change his backstory to Texas oil tycoon and figure they’re both on the run from the sheriff before Louis settles in for his customary in-flight nap.

It’s the best way to kill the 11 hours, and Louis can never get enough sleep lately.

~*~

Getting off a plane at LAX and coming out of the artificial lighting into sunny California’s cloudless skies, Louis wants nothing more than to see Harry waiting for him in Arrivals. He isn’t, as Louis had specifically told him not to, that it wouldn’t be fair to Asher to force him into that potentially hectic scene, but he still desperately wants to see him face-to-face.

They had attempted to Skype the day before but Asher wouldn’t go down for his nap and equally had no interest in meeting Louis through the phone screen. Louis had laughed, not even bothered by the disinterest in the two-year old, but Harry had seemed upset by it.

“I love you, I’ll see you soon,” Louis had said to distract him and Harry had smiled back and repeated it before they’d signed off.

Adjusting his carry on and wishing for a moment they’d been able to swing a last-minute private plane so he wouldn’t have to go through the motions, Louis sticks close to Alberto. They pass a handful of paparazzi who seem to be gathered for someone bigger, only a few realising who Louis is as he passes.

They call out rude remarks and take his picture, trying to get a response for their photos but Louis uses every trick he’s ever been taught for dealing with situations like this, and he makes it almost all the way to the waiting car without showing any outward reaction. He sees a little girl at the last minute, probably no older than four and staring at him in awe. She’s with a man who Louis assumes is her dad, and he watches for a moment as the man tries to get her to keep walking with him.

She refuses, slipping away from him and darting up to Louis. Her father calls out after her, but she gets to Louis before he can get to her. It all happens in a matter of seconds, and Alberto surprisingly doesn’t try to stop him from kneeling down in front of her.

“Hi, love,” he says as her dad comes up. “What’s your name?”

“Elena,” she replies, suddenly shy.

“Hi Elena. I’d like to sign something for you, can I do that?” She nods and he pulls out a little notebook he keeps on him for song lyrics. ‘ _Always listen to your dad,’_ he writes, showing the man.

He laughs and spells out E-L-E-N-A when Louis raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“Where are you folks off to?” he asks as he hands the paper over to her.

“We’re going to see momma. She doesn’t live here anymore.”

Louis nods, smiling wide. “That sounds like fun, sweet. Make sure you stay with your dad the rest of the trip, yeah? Don’t want to worry him by running off anymore.”

She nods, serious and Louis and her smile into her dad’s camera phone while he snaps a shot.

“Thanks man,” he says once he’s pocketed his phone. “Can’t believe she had the gumption to run off like that.”

“No problem, mate, have a safe trip.”

Louis stands and lets Alberto rush him into the car. He hadn’t even noticed the paps’ focus on him, and he settles into his seat with a smug look on his face.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” Alberto says when he sees Louis’ smile.

Unconcerned, Louis shrugs as he grabs his mobile from his pocket. It powers up in his hand as they pull away from the airport, hopping on the highway and sitting in the usual parking lot traffic jam.

Harry answers almost as soon as it starts ringing.

“You didn’t call me when you landed,” he says and Louis can hear the simultaneous pout and smile in Harry’s voice.

“I called you as soon as I got in the car, though,” Louis offers.

“‘ve missed you so much, I can’t wait to see you. Wish I could have come to get you myself.”

“It’s fine,” Louis says easily. “We’ve got someone else now we need to think about anyway.”

He hears a faint rush of breath, almost as if Harry’s sighing over Louis using the ‘we’ word.

“Yeah,” Harry says, voice light. “ _we_ do. Are you sure you don’t want to come here first?”

Louis shakes his head even as the car changes lanes to get off the freeway. The back way to the hotel is quicker, Louis remembers from all the trips here before he started staying in Harry’s place exclusively. “Babe, we talked about this. Asher’s just started opening up to you. Having someone new living in his space around his dad might just put him on edge all over again. I’ll be by for a little bit today and I’ll stay a little more tomorrow. We’ll work our way up to it.”

Harry sighs, frustrated this time. “I want to insist you don’t go to a hotel,” he starts, and, boy, Louis can _hear_ the fond in his voice, “but you just called me his dad and I swear I’m _swooning_ about it.”

Louis laughs, bright and loud into the receiver. Alberto turns in his seat to look at him, eyebrow cocked.

“You _are_ his dad, Hazza. You’re doing so well, too. Those pictures you sent last night of you both, he looks so happy with you. You’re a natural, always have been. Perfect popstar and perfect dad.”

“Stop,” Harry laughs. “You’re just trying to butter me up so I don’t make you come home. Fine, stay in a cold, grungy hotel when you could be _home_ with nice, clean sheets and ceiling-to-floor windows overlooking the beach. Whatever.”

“I can’t believe you think I’d stay anywhere _grungy_ ,” Louis snorts. “We’re almost at the hotel now, Harry. I’ll let you go-”

“Noo,” Harry whines.

“I’ll see you in just two hours, Hazza. It’s like you’re obsessed with me or something,” Louis teases.

“I am,” Harry says, his smile clear in his voice. “Have I not told you this already? I just got a wall decal of your face, gonna put it over my bed and stare at you all night long.”

“Creep,” Louis says lovingly. “I’ve got to go, babe. See you soon?”

“See you soon,” Harry responds, a quick ‘love you’ before hanging up.

~*~

They pull up to the back entrance of the hotel, thankfully no fans around. The trip is impromptu and most people will think Louis is staying in the house with Harry, but he’s been surprised before when fans have found him and he regrets letting those photogs get so many pictures of them, doesn’t want anyone to yet know he was even in California.

But it’s no matter now, the only people there to witness him get out of the car are the staff of the hotel. He knows well enough to not expect his location to stay private for very long, but he’s content with being able to get inside now and probably have enough time to leave before fans or photogs track him down.

He poses for a couple of pictures and asks that they wait to post them- a request he and Harry have frequently used and seems to work well.

Once he’s in his hotel suite, he drops to his bed and pulls up his notifications. He scans through quickly, just to verify that his hotel hasn’t yet been mentioned. It hasn’t.

Louis knows the right thing to do is to make sure Asher’s comfortable with him before he barges his way into their life but it’s completely ridiculous to be so close to Harry and to not be there with him. They haven’t been separated like this since before they started dating, and they’re both terribly codependent now that it’s been almost two years.

He messes about for a bit, changing his clothes and then changing them again. He’d debated bringing a gift for Asher but he knows kids can sense weakness and smell fear, so he hadn’t done so.

Well, the Google search he did about how to best meet your boyfriend’s kids said not to bring a gift and Louis doesn’t want to start off awkward with Harry’s son.

Harry’s _son_ , shit. Louis can’t really wrap his mind around it. He’d gone over and over the concept again and again. His _son_.

The mother was someone Harry had dated only briefly, a season-long, sun-soaked romance when Harry had first bought his current house in LA. She wasn’t anyone Louis had ever met but she’d disappeared easily when Harry and her had finished. She didn’t call or cling, and Harry had thought she’d moved on as easily as he had.

Louis can’t remember Jess, doesn’t know if he was aware of Harry seeing someone at the time. Soon enough after that summer, Harry and he had fallen into their _thing_ and come out the other side together, and Louis hadn’t really cared about the people Harry had occupied himself with before hand. Harry had told him it had always been Louis and Louis had believed him.

It was the truth, after all. Even though Louis had wasted some time with people who weren’t Harry, nothing had ever felt the same once they’d started. He knew Harry had felt the same.

Hearing about Asher, especially through the way they had with his grandmother profiting off spreading their business in the tabloids, Louis had doubted Harry for the first time. Harry had tried to explain how little Jess had meant, how he _swore_ he hadn’t known she’d had a kid, but Louis had fought him on it.

How could someone not _know_?

But he had been unfair and he was here now. He reminds himself that he got on a plane, he came to California. Harry’s the most forgiving person Louis has ever known. Harry won’t hold any of his self-doubts against him.

Regardless, Louis leaves the hotel forty-five minutes earlier than he’d planned, stopping at a Toys ‘R Us on the way to Harry’s and buying a dolphin-shaped sandbox that he arranges to have delivered that afternoon.

Fuck Google, Louis isn’t going to have nothing to offer. He’ll be trying to keep sand out of the house for ages if they let him stick around and it will be _so_ worth it.

~*~

The front door to Harry’s house has never been so imposing before. It’s just a slab of wood, with a bit of a design and painted bright white because Louis had said a beach house had to be white. The knob is shiny metal and Louis has a key in his hand.

What he should do next is use the key, open the door and slip inside.

What he does next is knock, like an utter fool.

It takes Harry a moment to get to the door, and Louis shoves his hands in his pockets as he listens to the sound of Bear coming to the door to investigate.

“Back, hound,” Harry calls playfully and Louis hears a child giggling as the door swings open.

“Louis!” Harry crows, smiling. “Look, Asher,” he says to the blond-haired boy on his hips, “it’s Louis!”

“Louis,” Asher parrots, clapping his hand against Harry’s bare shoulder.

“Why didn’t you use your key?” Harry asks, stepping back and letting Louis slip inside. “Bear, _get back_.”

“He’s fine,” Louis says, patting Bear on the head until he calms down. “Look at this guy, though. Hi, Asher.”

Asher hides his face in Harry’s neck, but he still says ‘hi’ and Louis takes that as a bit of a win.

Shrugging when Harry pouts a bit, Louis just smiles. “It’s gonna take more than a second, Haz.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighs, “I know. Come here, give us a kiss hello.”

Happy to oblige, Louis leans in and brings their lips together for a sweet peck, hand light on Harry’s hip. He pulls back and grins, the tension and stress that had still been lingering earlier that morning slipping from him completely.

“We were just about to get in the pool,” Harry says, motioning with one hand to their swim trunks.

“Brilliant, I’ll get changed and meet you out there.”

Harry leans in again and kisses him quickly before moving past. Louis watches him go, Asher lifting his head as Harry slides open the back door and staring at Louis, expression confused but more comfortable now that the strange man in his dad’s home is further away.

A bit of nagging doubt teases in his mind again but then Harry looks back as he closes the door, smiling bright and happy, and Louis lets it go for good.

~*~

Asher’s wild for the water. He’s got armbands on and a pair of goggles on his face, and he splashes happily when Louis slips into the pool. He wades up to them, forcing a wide smile as Asher looks at him, misgivings clear on his face.

“I like your armbands, Asher,” Louis says as he gets near. “Are they whales?”

Asher looks at them and then looks back at Louis. He frowns when he glances at Harry.

“Go on,” Harry encourages. Tell Louis what they are.”

“Sharks,” Asher says, voice quiet.

“Oh, of course, look at those teeth. Of course they’re sharks.”

“Yeah,” Asher says.

Figuring Asher’s been social enough, Louis floats up on his back and keeps close but doesn’t talk again for a bit, content to bask in the near-summer sunshine and listen as Asher chats with Harry about something Louis doesn’t quite catch. He thinks he hears the word “mommy.”

Pride swells in Louis’ chest when Harry handles it perfectly, upbeat and chipper as he tells Asher that his mum had to go away for a bit but that his dad’s there now.

If Louis isn’t careful, Liam’s weepy tendencies are going to rub off on him and he can’t afford to give Harry any further leverage against him. The lad’s got enough on him as it is.

He clears his throat a bit, kicking his legs out and floating a bit further away.

~*~

By the time they go inside for the night, Louis’ managed to have a full three-minute conversation with Asher about the colour blue.

Harry laughs at them and brings them in for dinner: burgers and hot dogs from the barbeque grill. Asher eats his hot dog and part of a chopped up burger with his hands, completely ignoring the silverware Harry tries to get him to use with a smile at his dad. Harry holds Louis’ hand across the table, fingers tracing along Louis’ knuckles while they try to eat one-handed.

The bear paws Harry passes off as hands can handle the burgers easily, but Louis soon makes a mess of his.

“Louis messy,” Asher scolds.

Harry laughs, startled and loud. “Ash,” he scolds back. “Be nice.”

“No, no, he’s right.” Louis takes his hand back. “I’ve made a right mess.”

“Mommy messy, too,” Asher explains, bringing more of his loose burger to his mouth.

Harry’s face falls, clearly upset and not knowing how to handle it.

“Mommy was messy, too?” Louis asks. “Was she more messy or less messy than me?”

Asher takes a moment to think, fingers dancing around a bite of hot dog. “More,” he finally decides.

“I remember that,” Harry says, voice small. He shoots an apologetic glance at Louis.

“Tell us about her,” Louis prompts.

“Jess was really pretty,” Harry starts. “Short brown hair and blue eyes.”

“Louis,” Asher interrupts, pointing to his drying brown hair. “Brown hair.”

“That’s right,” Harry says. “What colour hair do you have?”

Asher reaches his hand up, getting a piece of hot dog in his hair that Louis brushes away. “Yellow,” Asher decides.

“That’s absolutely right, you’re so smart.”

Asher laughs and wiggles in his high chair, ready to get down.

“Don’t you want to talk more about mommy?” Louis asks, trying to placate him.

“No,” Asher says, pulling at the table on his chair. “Want play.”

Just then, the front gate buzzes. Louis gets up from the table as Harry lets Asher loose. He sees the delivery truck on the monitor and buzzes it through.

He opens the door to sign for the sandbox when a weight collides with his calves.

“Up!” Asher demands when Louis looks down. Laughing and feeling a bit thrilled with the acceptance, Louis scoops him into his arms and puts him on his hip.

“Got you a prezzie,” he explains as he uses his free hand to sign the delivery sheet.

“What?” Asher asks.

“Guess we’ll have to wait and see till it’s set up.”

“Cute kid,” the delivery man says with a smile.

Asher hides his face in Louis’ neck the way he had earlier with Harry and Louis feels warm throughout.

“Cheers,” Louis says, leading the guys around to the back of the house. They get the sandbox set up, Asher clinging to Louis’ neck the whole time though he watches with avid interest.

Harry watches through the sliding door, clearly wanting to give Asher and Louis space to bond and Louis blows him a kiss when he notices.

Finally, the sandbox is all set. Louis tips the guys for setting it up and takes pictures with them, setting Asher down and keeping him near but out of the screen.

When they’re gone, Harry comes out again.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he says as they climb in with Ash, showing him the little sandbox tools Louis had bought to go along. There’s buckets and molds, a shovel and a rake.

“I panicked and didn’t want to show up empty-handed,” he shrugs, closing his eyes to avoid the spray of sand Asher flings around.

“No throwing sand,” Harry says, placing his hand on Asher’s and stilling him.

“Sorry,” Asher apologises.

“Thank you,” Harry says to Asher before turning to Louis. “We’re going to be filthy, there’s gonna be sand _everywhere_ ,” Harry groans, apparently imagining the mess.

“I’ll clean,” Louis offers. He laughs at the look Harry gives him. “I _will_.”

“Yeah, okay.”

They’re quiet for a few moments, hiding the little sand rings for Asher to dig up.

“Stay over tonight,” Harry says.

Louis smiles, looking down at Asher playing. “Not tonight, babe. End the day on a good note. I’ll be back for breakfast tomorrow, though.”

“I’m glad you flew in. I wish we hadn’t wasted this past week fighting.”

“My fault entirely, love,” Louis says, scooting closer to him and linking their fingers together. “I should go now while he’s got something to focus on. I love you.”

“Love you,” Harry responds, bringing his hand to Louis’ jaw and leaning in for a kiss.

“Asher,” Louis says, getting the child’s attention. “I’m going to go back home now.”

“Okay,” Asher says, unperturbed.

“How about breakfast tomorrow? Do you think I could stop by for some of dad’s eggs and bacon?”

“Yeah, okay,” he decides. “Bye bye.”

“Bye buddy. See you tomorrow.”

Harry makes to stand but Louis gets a hand on his shoulder and pushes himself up.

“It’s fine, don’t make him leave the sandbox just yet. It’s clearly the best present he’s ever been given.”

Harry laughs at that, mouth open and eyes bright in the fading light.

“Night babe, call me when you get in.”

“Promise,” Louis says before turning and walking around to the front of the property and slipping into his car.

He calls Alberto and tells him he’s on his way, about thirty minutes from the hotel. Alberto says he’ll be ready to get him into the building, a small group of fans having found his hotel and waiting for him all day. Louis tells him he’ll stop for pictures if they’re calm enough.

When he hangs up, he notices a pap outside of Harry’s house and smirks at how he is not hiding half as well as he thinks he is. He contemplates flipping him off but he’s quiet and as unobtrusive as photogs ever are, so Louis just turns away from him and makes his way back to the hotel.

He’s thinking as he drives, planning out activities for the three of them to do. He’s pleased with how much progress he seems to have made, Asher opening up to him a bit during the day’s visit. He drives away from the setting sun, drumming his fingers on the wheel as he waits in traffic as usual.

The buzz of his phone catches his attention and he unlocks his phone. An Instagram post from Harry.

Louis pulls up the photo. It’s black and white- as usual- and had been taken without Louis knowing. It’s just a simple shot of Louis and Asher’s hands holding the rake together and dragging lines through the sand. The tip of his wrist tattoo can be seen and Harry’s captioned it “ _All’s well_.”.

Everytime Louis thinks he can’t possibly be any prouder, Harry goes against management again and does something on his own terms and Louis feels his heart swell.

He opens his Twitter as traffic continues to stay deadlocked, typing out a quick message.

_‘Loved the California sunshine today with @Harry_Styles !! Spent some time with a future footy star !! #benditlikeasher’_

He bites his lips before he sends it out, debating how severe their management team could react to it. Deciding he needs to take a page from Harry’s book, he hits ‘tweet’ and tosses his mobile onto the seat next to him.

He can’t keep the smile off his face as he pictures Harry seeing the tweet, the way his face will flush and his eyes will crinkle.

It’s about fifteen minutes later when his phone goes again, Louis almost off the highway. He looks at his phone the next time he crawls to a stop. Harry’s sent a picture of Asher in the bath with a bubble beard and pointy hat.

‘I guess I get first sandbox cleanup duty?’ the text reads.

Louis just laughs, typing back, _I promise to take the next._

He gets a heart emoji in return and locks his phone just in time for traffic to resume crawling forward. He pulls off the freeway towards his hotel, can already see the small group of fans hanging about. He parks near them and gets out, ready to sign autographs.

“Hey guys,” he says to the group of teens. There’s only about ten of them and Alberto’s standing near the door, so Louis wants to take a minute with them.

“Hi, Louis,” a lot of them say. He takes pictures and signs their notebooks before a girl names Laila gets a chance.

“Hey, love,” he says, already going for a pose with her. She pulls back a bit, though.

“Instead of a picture, can I ask a question?”

Louis nods, not having heard that before.

“Are you and Harry going to be okay?”

He smiles and- knowing there’s undoubtedly a camera phone trained on him- makes sure his voice carries. “Harry and I are going to be okay. We’re committed to each other and to Asher.”

“Is that the baby’s name?” one of the boys asks.

Louis nods and fishes out his phone. “I’ll show you guys one picture and then I’ve got to go inside, fair?”

He pulls up his phone and opens one of him and Asher in the pool, on the side with the cabana overhead so their profiles are mostly in shadow. Harry had taken it when he’d gotten out to start the grill, Louis and Ash smiling wide as Asher splashed at him.

The group coos at the picture and he lets them take pictures from their mobiles, keeping his hand moving just a little so the shots aren’t clear.

“We’ll upload it later,” he says when he puts it in his pocket. “I won’t be here after tonight, guys, so don’t come back around. We’ll see you when we’re back on tour.”

He goes to Alberto when they say goodbye, letting him get his arm around Louis’ back and guide him inside. He calls Harry as he steps into the lifts.

“Hey,” Harry says, surprised. “Everything alright? I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

“Fine, yeah. I just- there were some fans out front and I showed them the pool picture you took of Asher.”

“The one where he got you right in the face?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think to ask before I showed it to them.”

“Lou,” Harry sighs, Asher’s voice happy in the background. It sounds like he’s singing something. “We’re in this together. You can share a million pictures if you want.”

“I just wanted to make sure, I guess. After everything.”

“Shut up,” Harry laughs, his voice soft. “No more talking about it.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll try. I’ll make it up to you. I’m gonna be…” he pauses. “I’m going to be the best dad to Asher as I can be, as he deserves.”

“I know you will,” Harry says, as if it’s that simple.

They say their goodbyes and hang up as Louis gets out on his floor.

Maybe it really is that simple.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi: [tumblr](http://sa-voix.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I'll probably write a bit more from this verse, so feel free to send me ideas/prompts in my askbox. I'd like to know which parts you lot want to see the most. Again, thanks for reading!


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